true? "Dulcinea del Toboso is the most beautiful
woman in the world, and I the most unfortunate knight upon the earth. It
were unjust that such perfection should suffer through my weakness. No,
pierce my body with your lance, knight, and let my life expire with my
honour. . . ." Why could he not wrench this feeling from his heart,
banish this girl from his eyes? Why could he not be wholly true to her
who was and always had been wholly true to him? Horrible--this
will-less, nerveless feeling, this paralysis, as if he were a puppet
moved by a cruel hand. And, as once before, it seemed to him that the
girl was sitting there in Sylvia's chair in her dark red frock, with her
eyes fixed on him. Uncannily vivid--that impression! . . . A man could
not go on long with his head in Chancery like this, without becoming
crazed!

It was growing dusk on Saturday afternoon when he gave up that
intolerable waiting and opened the studio door to go to Nell. It was now
just two days since he had seen or heard of her. She had spoken of a
dance for that very night--of his going to it. She MUST be ill!

But he had not taken six steps when he saw her coming. She had on a grey
furry scarf, hiding her mouth, making her look much older. The moment the
door was shut she threw it off, went to the hearth, drew up a little
stool, and, holding her hands out to the fire, said:

"Have you thought about me? Have you thought enough now?"

And he answered: "Yes, I've thought, but I'm no nearer."

"Why? Nobody need ever know you love me. And if they did, I wouldn't
care."

Simple! How simple! Glorious, egoistic youth!

He could not speak of Sylvia to this child--speak of his married life,
hitherto so dignified, so almost sacred. It was impossible. Then he
heard her say:

"It can't be wrong to love YOU! I don't care if it is wrong," and saw
her lips quivering, and her eyes suddenly piteous and scared, as if for
the first time she doubted of the issue. Here was fresh torment! To
watch an unhappy child. And what was the use of even trying to make
clear to her--on the very threshold of life--the hopeless maze that he
was wandering in! What chance of making her understand the marsh of mud
and tangled weeds he must drag through to reach her. "Nobody need know."
So simple! What of his heart and his wife's heart? And, pointing to his
new work--the first man bewitched by the first nymph--he said:

"Look at this, Nell! That nymph